The Sport of Kings
by l0kii
Summary: Running off to America with Sherlock sounded like a dangerous thing, considering that it was Sherlock Holmes, not an ordinary person who just wanted to go on holiday.


_This is my first fanfiction, so I'm kind of freaking out about posting it and hoping that it's not crappy.  
I do not own Sherlock or any of the main characters. They never have been mine and probably never will be, even though they'd make a great Christmas present._

I apologise for any typos or strange words, the auto-correct on my iPod is a jerk sometimes.  
Now, on to the story. Because you didn't come here to read these notes... Or did you?

-

**Chapter One - Eight Hours  
**  
Meet me at the Heathrow airport. Bring clothing, at least three day's worth. Bring something nice. SH

Got it. Why? JW

America needs me. SH

Why do they need me? Aren't you enough? JW

Our flight leaves in an hour, hurry. SH

-

Running off to America with Sherlock sounded like a dangerous thing, considering that it was Sherlock Holmes, not an ordinary person who just wanted to go on holiday. This meant that the consulting detective was involved in some sort of international case, which probably involved a lot of money and certainly involved danger.  
Running his fingers through his sandy coloured hair, John shut down his laptop and placed it down, sighing and climbing the stairs to his room, where he found various articles of clothing from his dresser and put them in his suitcase, along with other items he thought he'd need. He flipped off all the lights and left a note for Ms Hudson before going outside and locking the flat behind him. A slow drizzle fell from the sky, dampening him.  
Luckily he was able to get a cab, but on the down side traffic was moving incredibly slow.  
The doctor sighed, taking out his phone to text his mysterious flatmate while watching the rain drops run down the window.

-

Sherlock, where should I meet you? JW

I'll find you. Mycroft got us first class seats. SH

Mycroft? What exactly are we doing, Sherlock? JW

We're going on a trip for a case. SH

I know, but why? JW

You'll see. SH

Right. You do know this is an eight hour flight? JW

I know. I'm the one who asked you to accompany me, not the other way around. SH

I know that. Look, I'll be there soon. Traffic is bad. JW

-

The cab pulled up to the main building of the airport, stopping as John got out and produced a twenty pound bill from his wallet, telling the cabbie to keep the change before hurrying inside the building, toting his luggage behind him.  
Sitting in one of the conveniently placed chairs, he waited for the detective to find him, knowing it wouldn't take long before Sherlock found him.

I'm here, Sherlock. Main building. JW

Almost fifteen minutes later, John saw a tall man with dark curls and a long grey coat, immediately recognising him and greeting him with a smile.  
"You made it just on time." the detective said blankly, turning and motioning for the shorter man to follow him.  
The duo made their way through the throngs of people moving this way and that, trying to dodge stressed travellers to make their way to the security checks, where they were both annoyed by a woman who wore tons of jewellery and also happened to be carrying a ton of change.  
"Finally." John muttered under his breath as she finally removed the last metal object from herself and placed it in the tray. Sherlock looked vaguely displeased at the woman, but also slightly amused at John's reaction to her abundance of jewellery and coins.

By the time they were finally ushered on to a the jet by some man in a suit, the rain had cleared up, leaving the air fresh and crisp.  
The detective breathed a sigh of relief as they were lead towards their seats, it was a row of three, with Mycroft waiting for them in the empty row of seats.  
Sherlock gave his brother a cold glare before sitting down in the seat closest to the window, observing an airplane take off from two runways down. His eyes followed the plane as it ascended in to the clear sky, disappearing in to some fluffy white clouds.  
John sat between Sherlock and Mycroft, which was probably for the better, since they didn't exactly get along as brothers should. As the doctor glanced around, he realised there was no one else in the first class cabin; probably Mycroft's doing, no doubt.  
A stewardess made her way from the back of the airplane, smiling to the three men.  
"I hope you gentlemen enjoy your flight. I'm Jess, if you need anything, let me know." she said with a cheesy smile that didn't even look genuine as she combed a lock of her red hair behind her ear, walking back out of the cabin.  
"She's sleeping with the pilot." Sherlock remarked.  
"I'm not even going to ask how you figured that out." John replied in a annoyed tone, wondering if the rest of the flight would be like this.

A static noise came over the loudspeaker before a voice spoke.  
"Please put on your seatbelts and turn off all electronics. Thank you for flying with us."  
The detective grumbled at this, since he was in the middle of a text conversation with Lestrade about a body that'd been hanging from Tower Bridge. He turned it off anyway, only after John and his brother did the same.  
Sherlock turned his gaze back to the window as the plane began to move forward to take off.  
The plane began to ascend in to the air, earning a small grin from the consulting detective; he'd always liked airplanes, they were interesting to research, and they were fun to fly on, well, as fun as transportation could be.  
John craned his neck towards the window, seeing London below them. It made him curious about the case. The mysterious case that required him and Sherlock to fly to America; and apparently Mycroft was needed too.  
"Sherlock?" John inquired.  
"Yes?" the detective replied, turning his attention away from the window and to the doctor.  
"Why are we going to America?"  
"There was a case. It complicated and it involves the Kentucky Derby, a big American horse race with a lot of money involved."  
"And...?"  
"They needed me. There's murders and under the radar transfers of millions of dollars. The police can't find out anything, but I can." Sherlock replied, ending the conversation with that.

-

Roughly two hours had passed since the plane had taken off, leaving Sherlock bored and both John and Mycroft annoyed by the detective's whiny complaints about airplane food and lack of "proper" entertainment on commercial airlines.  
"Sherlock, I can't make them fly the bloody plane any faster." the doctor said in an annoyed tone, wishing it wasn't him sitting by the detective, who was acting worse than some four year old children he'd seen in his times flying in economy.  
Sherlock huffed in an annoyed fashion before crossing his arms over his chest and turning to look back out the window.  
"There's nothing but water to see. Dull." he said.  
"You brought your violin, perhaps you could play that?" Mycroft suggested, growing tired of his brother's constant complaining about his boredom. He was also bored, but he chose not to express it in the manner his younger brother did.

"Boring." Sherlock said quietly, slightly entertained by watching a cruise ship below them, even though it looked tiny.  
That got boring very quickly, and the detective was about to complain again when the redheaded stewardess returned.

"I hope your flight has been enjoyable so far, can I get anything for you gentleman?" she said with false enthusiasm.  
"Can I get some tea please?" John asked, turning his head towards the woman standing in the aisle.  
"Of course. Anything for you, sir?" she said, looking at Mycroft.  
"Tea as well." he replied, involved in filling out some official looking paperwork, it was some sort of conformation for some project on the city of London.  
Jess nodded and looked at Sherlock.  
"And for you?"

There was no response from the consulting detective, who was bored and annoyed of flying, and wanted nothing more than to get off the plane.  
"Alright then, I'll be back shortly with your tea." the stewardess said with a confused look plastered on her face, not used to being blatantly ignored by people.

-

When the stewardess left, the detective got up and paced back and forth in the aisle, doing this for about forty minutes, until the stewardess returned with the cups of tea John and Mycroft had requested.  
"I apologise for the wait, we were having some issues with a passenger in economy." she said, wearing the generic fake smile she always did.  
"Thank you." the doctor said with a nod and a smile, taking both cups of tea, along with the provided milk and sugar.  
"Would any of you gentleman like to see any of our complimentary on-flight movies?" she asked.  
"I'll pass, thank you." Mycroft said with a fake smile, looking up from the stack of files on his lap.  
"Sure, I guess." John said, not having anything else to do.  
The stewardess proceeded to set the movie selection up, and instruct them all on how to operate it.  
When she left, Sherlock sat back down, resting his head on John's shoulder and falling asleep.

"He's always had problems with flying." Mycroft said to John, looking fondly at the sleeping detective.  
John chuckled and tried to move Sherlock off of his shoulder, but to no avail. "What do you mean by that?"  
"When he was younger he used to be afraid of flying. It was too much for him. Now it's too boring for him." Mycroft replied with a laugh, taking a sip of his tea before returning to scribbling out words on the paperwork.

Six hours later, the chime of the intercom roused the sleeping detective, and distracted Mycroft and John.  
"Please remain seated and put on your seatbelts, we will be landing shortly."

-

_Hopefully someone liked it.  
The next chapter will be much more entertaining, I swear. c:  
Reviews would make my day. I'll give you a cookie if you do._


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